Dear Connor Murphy
by KewlKidBoi
Summary: AU where Connor Murphy finds Evan after he jumps out of an oak tree. Connor's life changes as everyone mistakes him as Evan's friend.


'Fuck off' can be said with a laugh, with a nervous quiver, with a playful lilt, but Connor Murphy said it with none of those things; He said it with more anger than most people felt in a year. "I'm not as good as you right? Right? I'm just a waste of space ruining your perfect family? That's what you're thinking, Right? It would all be better if I was fucking dead!" Connor burst, punctuating his sentence with a punch to the patch of wall beside his sister's head. Tears welled in Zoe's eyes, but they never fell.

She wanted to tell her brother yes, life would be infinitely better if he disappeared. If she didn't have to spend every second tense, wondering if it would be the day Connor snapped, when his anger was more than heated words, broken drywall, and careless shoves. Zoe knew better than to say anything when Connor was in a rage, he couldn't hear her, couldn't see reason. Connor held Zoe's gaze; she kept her ground, looking at the wraith in Connor's eyes head-on, wishing she could love him, wishing he was normal.

Connor's palm slammed against the wall, startling Zoe; Her eyes closed in surprise, a single tear sliding down her check in escape. When she opened her eyes, Connor was gone.

The door to Zoe's right shut violently. She blinked, quickly wiping her cheek and retreating to her room. Why did Connor have to be such a freak? Zoe sighed against

her bedroom door, composing herself, safe from all of Connor's... issues. She knew she had got lucky; when Connor had been smoking he was prone to outbursts far more violent than a handful of shouts and a single punch to the wall. Zoe recalled Connor's fist pounding on the other side of the locked bathroom door, his voice hoarse from shouting threats and tears streaming down her face as heavily as the trickle of water from a partially closed tap. She had barely scrambled into the bathroom after dodging a lamp Connor had lobed at her head, her hands shaking almost too violently to turn the lock. Cynthia and Larry Murphy had come home just as Connor put a fist through one of the door's panels, the wood splinters flying into Zoe's hair. Mr. and Mrs. Murphy had a long talk that night regarding Connor, a talk that had quickly dissolved into a fight.

Was he an ungrateful and rebellious teenager, acting out of spite? Or was he a damaged and lost kid trying to get the help he desperately needed? Bitterly, Zoe thought she knew just what Connor was: full of hate. She didn't care if Connor ever got help, as long as he and his anger were far away from her.

Zoe had tried to imagine what Connor must be feeling. She had laid awake in bed, putting puzzle pieces together, hoping she could decipher the enigma of Connor Murphy: A brother she knew she had once found solace in, as distant and unbelievable as that may be. Zoe felt she owed it to Connor to try and understand, but somewhere in the violence and the anger Zoe's concern twisted into resentment. It was bad enough coming home to their parents, who couldn't decide if their marriage was broken, without having to walk around the house like the floor's covered in broken glass, never knowing if Connor's high or in the mood for a fight. Connor was her older brother. He was supposed to be there for her, not be the reason she needed someone there for her.

Zoe breathed deeply. She didn't want to think about Connor, he had already wasted enough of her time screaming. She had better things to do than watch Connor's hissy fits. Tucking a piece of hair behind her ear, Zoe walked over to her desk and sat down. She wanted to be free: free from worry, free from all of the pain, from all of the stress. To be free would mean to finally be happy, but to find freedom meant to endure misery. Unlike Connor, Zoe wanted a future, at least a future away from the Murphy house. All of Zoe's hope was pinned on the idea happiness was just a college acceptance letter away. If she could make it past high school, past her parents fighting in the middle of the night, past Connor's threats, she would find a world that let her smile.

Connor breathed harshly. Fuck Zoe, fuck her jazz band, fuck her perfect grades, fuck her and fuck. Fuck. Connor dropped to the floor, head in his hands. Just, fuck. Would there ever be a day Connor could just be normal? He had tried today, he had tried to just stop being a problem. He went to school, kept to the back of the class, stayed for the whole day. He didn't smoke on school grounds, not even a cigarette. He said nothing to the stupid kids at school who asked him when he was going to shoot the school up, or if his boyfriend liked his hair long. He kept his head down and made it home without a word, without an outburst, without an incident. Then Connor saw Zoe; she was smiling and talking, and being normal. And it was just so easy for her. And it pissed Connor off. It took all of Connor's efforts to just be nothing, to be a wallflower, to be background noise. Yet, Zoe did so much more than that without a second thought. Without a struggle. Without a thousand intrusive thoughts and feelings. If Connor wasn't the way he was everything would be better; Zoe wouldn't hate being at home, his parents wouldn't fight all the time, and he, well maybe he wouldn't feel so alone.

But he was the way he was. Zoe hated being at home, she would rather be at school than anywhere near Connor. His parents did fight, they lasted about five minutes at home before going at it about something, about Connor usually. And he was alone. Connor was utterly alone. He was left with nothing but the thoughts in his head and they built, and built, and built. Every insult, every joke, every scared look, Connor had already given to himself before anyone else had the chance. Everything Connor knew was wrong with himself was thrown back at his face. Every insecurity was amplified by the confirmation in Zoe's eyes.

Fuck it, Connor had already flown off the goddamn handle, reserve was pointless. He grabbed his bag and unlatched his bedroom window. If he was going to be a fuck up, he was not going to do it sober. Connor hung from the sill of his window briefly before dropping to the ground. He kept his eyes on the face of his house, slowly walking towards the 2012 Subaru outback he was supposed to share with Zoe, thumbing the keys he swiped from Zoe's backpack in his hoodie pocket. Connor turned towards the car, grabbing a cigarette from his almost emptied carton and stuck it between his lips. He lit the cigarette in the car, letting the smoke escape out of the cracked car window. If only Connor could disappear that easily.

Where Connor would go was not something he had to decide; he felt like a leper everywhere he went. He could feel eyes on him, he could feel the whispers and jokes. Everyone knew how much of a freak he was. Connor didn't feel like being a freak, he felt like being a lonely, confused kid trying to be okay. With shaky hands Connor drove towards the only place he knew no one would be.

A bunch of fucking trees. Connor blew smoke out through his lips, glancing around at all of the leaves slowing turning color. He took another hit. It all felt a little better. It felt less like the whole world was getting smaller and smaller until Connor's lungs had no more room to expand. It just felt kind of okay. When Connor got home, with puffy eyes and stolen keys, it would not feel okay. But he wasn't at home. He was in the middle of a bunch of fucking trees trying not to feel like jumping off of a goddamn bridge would be a better solution to his problems. Connor looked around, spinning to see all of the trees. The air was starting to smell of dead leaves. Connor used to really love fall. He helped put up Halloween decorations, bought sweaters at GoodWill, picked apples with his family. He stopped loving things a long time ago. He had trouble remembering a Halloween he wasn't high for, he wore the same black hoodie practically everyday, and if he spent more than five minutes with his parents it ended with yelling.

Connor could not describe what it felt like to love something. Did he ever even like anything? He didn't like getting high. He didn't like being angry all the time. He didn't like the look his parents got every time he entered a room. He did it because he couldn't do anything else. It was like his body didn't want him to get better; Everyday was a decline, everyday he got worse. Today was supposed to be a good day. Connor was supposed to get better today, he was supposed to be nice to Zoe. He was supposed to stay calm and stay sober. He sighed, sitting down at the base of a tree. For five minutes Connor was going to try and not think of anything. No Zoe, no school shooter jokes, no being a fuck up. Just five minutes of being high and sitting around a bunch of fucking trees.

Connor's eyes jolted open when he heard a thud, a snap, and a cry. What the fuck. Connor looked down at the joint in his hand, like his weed was laced with something hallucinogenic. He slowly turned his head around to see if the noise had a source or if he had really gone insane.

"Fuck." Connor mumbled, spotting a body about a hundred feet away. He slowly pushed himself up off of the ground and stumbled towards whatever fucking idiot decided to fall out of a tree.

"Hey," Connor asked, eyes examining the blob of blue and tan twisted awkwardly in the grass. "Are you okay?" Connor felt stupid for asking, obviously they weren't okay. He squatted to get a closer look of the body. Blood trickled from the corner of the kid's mouth. Connor thought he recognized him, Evan something. "Can you hear me?" Connor tried again, starting to get worried. He noticed Evan's arm bent unnaturally and panic started to rise under the haze of the pot.

"Shit." Connor fumbled with his phone and before he realized what he was doing he was calling Zoe.

"What do you want fuckass? You know mom and dad are going to kill you when they find out-" Zoe started, but was cut off by Connor.

"Zoe, fuck. Fuck. Shit! There's uh-, there's a kid here. He fell out of a fucking tree and I don't know what the fuck to do! He's not saying anything and his arm's all fucking twisted like a goddamn pretzel and he's bleeding! It's coming out of his mouth and I think that's bad, really bad. What the fuck."

"Call nine-one-one for fucksake! What are you doing? Why did you call me?"

"I didn't know what to do!" Connor felt like he was on the verge of tears, he couldn't tell if the kid was breathing and all of sudden it felt like his fault.

"Hang up and call nine-one-one! Where are you?"

"Ellison. Uh, somewhere in Ellison with a bunch of," Connor looked around. "A bunch of fucking trees."

"Jesus, Connor. I'm going to hang up and you're going to call nine-one-one." Zoe ended the call, feeling just as confused and worried as Connor.

Connor, with shaking hands, dialled nine-one-one.


End file.
